But he stared at her in disbelief. “You think I didn’t kiss you because of
your scar? Or spoken to you of attachments because of it? Oh, Red. There
are moments when I believe you see nothing of the truth,” he said, then he
smiled sadly. “There’s a lovely, idyllic innocence to you. Like you think
there’s still good left in this life. Gods… it’s been over a decade since I’ve
seen some brightness outside of Quent. I don’t know how… how to be
around you.”
Her cheeks flushed bright red. She would understand someone like
Almira intimidating a man, but never Hira. She said all the wrong things
and angered too quickly. She was flat-haired, flat-chested, clumsy, and
impulsive. She’d grown up never being allowed to explore the world for
herself.
She was a painting where only the edges were drawn and all the wild,
vibrant colors were yet to bring the image to life.
“And what is the truth, Commander?” she asked in a hush.
His mouth slacked opened, and he seemed to wish to speak, but he
stopped himself. He looked down and played with the sack in his hand.
“The truth is complicated. But there’s one thing I know. You intrigue me.
Things seldom intrigue me anymore. I’ve seen too much. You’ve been a
puzzle since the moment I fought you. Each time I think I have the last
piece, you reveal something else, and I understand nothing. But you’re
important, where I am dispensable. The world can manage without
Commander Seaver, but not without Hira Balik.”
She studied her hands in the moonlight as he tossed the apple into the
ocean.
He took a deep breath. “When I was a young man, I never knew what I
wanted. I was the eldest, so naturally I would become the commander. My
brother… always knew what he wanted and who he wanted. He never
questioned it. He was bold and rash, and I tried to keep him